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blackjackkent · 2 months

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As we start drawing close to the pool, things start going VERY bad. Everyone's struck with the Mindbroken effect and this time it doesn't wear off. The brain's words are constant now, resonating through everyone. It's actually incredibly unsettling.

"My mind... it's being drained..." Hector groans. "Must be close... my head is pounding..."

With every two or three steps forward the party gets stunned again, and again, and again. The pain grows in Hector's head, blinding, overwhelming, shattering him apart from within--

And then, suddenly... an empty, hollow stillness...

Narrator: Deathly silence, the air stale and putrid.

"It's close..." the Emperor hisses inside Hector's tortured brain. "Have the stones ready."

The stones. Yes...

Narrator: Your blood slows, your senses strung so tight they could snap in an instant.

Hector fumbles in his pack, gripping the small, rough gems and pulling them free. As he does so - perhaps sensing the nearness of the crown - they glow with an inner light, and heat surges through his palm. Commanded by some external force, they rip themselves from his grasp and draw together into a combined form that hovers in the air before him.

And then-- WHAM! Another blow. The ground under his feet surges and the water of the pool rocks with an impact from beneath. And the brain... the brain rises before him, closer than it has ever been before...

The slow thump of pain begins in his mind again as the horrible creature rumbles:

"--interruption-- --anomaly-- --found----- FOCUSED-- -END-- NOW--"

And then there is a slight lessening, a focusing - the pain does not ease but seems to attune itself deeper to resonate with his thoughts.

"YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE. YOU THINK THAT BY KILLING THE CHOSEN AND TAKING THE NETHERSTONES YOU CAN DESTROY ME."

"YOU ARE WRONG."

A wave of psychic energy shoots through him, nearly knocking him backwards off his feet. He hears Karlach shout something but it's lost in the buffeting of the great gusts of power surging off the brain, like a sea storm breaking against land.

But he holds strong, forces himself to inner stillness, to calm.

He opens his eyes, finds himself in a new and terrifying - but familiar - landscape.

The undulating abyss of sky around him, like the astral plane or the shadowfell but tinged the color of blood. He remembers this from his encounter with the Absolute within the walls of Moonrise. But instead of either the brain itself or the strange mass of tentacles with which it represented itself the last time, he now sees its true conception of itself - a mind flayer monstrosity, an illithid being but at tremendous scale, a beast of a mental ferocity he cannot begin to comprehend. Its eyes are pitch black and seem to stare through him like twin daggers.

"Oh..." Hector whispers, and for a moment he feels his courage flicker. He has never felt smaller and more terrified than he does at this moment - not fighting Ansur, not falling from the nautiloid, not even facing down Orin.

"It's messing with your mind!" the Emperor snaps at him. "Don't listen to it. Use the stones!"

Shut up, you bastard, Hector thinks wearily. Had he not lost all faith in the Emperor long since, perhaps this call to action would stir some greater fervor in him. But it is his friends, instead, whose shouts behind him give him strength, steady him against the terrifying visage staring him down.

"Strike, Hector! Do not wait - do it now!" Lae'zel bellows.

Jaheira's voice joins her. "There is no time. Hold strong, cub! Do not let the moment slip!"

And Karlach's - always the rock against which he can brace himself, even in the darkest moment: "Go, Hec! Fuck that bastard up! We're with you!"(*)

He draws his head back, half-closes his eyes, focusing on the strange, heavy warmth of the netherstones pressing down against his hand. Center. Calm. A quick breath in, a heavy exhale. Peace.

[INTELLIGENCE] Your mind is yours to command - block out all possibility of failure and compel the brain to submit.

They face down an intellect of such monumental power that he cannot conceive of it - but his mind is his greatest asset too, the strongest part of him even beyond his physical training. He focuses every bit of himself through his mind, through the stones, out into their foe--

Power lances out from his fingertips, amplified by the stones-- it bursts across the creature's great skull, seems to find purchase for a moment... then fizzles to nothingness.

The brain seems to laugh.

"BY ELIMINATING KETHERIC, ORIN, AND GORTASH, YOU HAVE SIMPLY UNBOUND ME. EXACTLY AS I INTENDED. THE CROWN IS NOW MINE TO COMMAND. MINE ALONE!"

"Don't listen to it!" the Emperor cries. "FOCUS ON THE CROWN!"

[WISDOM] A first attempt is just that. Iteration is key. Aim for the Crown and try again.

He struggles his thoughts back into order, into disciplined control. He focuses, he grounds himself, he lashes out again through the power of the stones--

(A/N: EXACTLY 25 on a DC25, eesh. Having heart palpitations over here.)

Again he lashes out - again pain blazes through his head and his hand as the power is deflected, knocked back with enough force to almost take him off his feet.

The brain's thundering tone becomes mocking, dismissive.

"THE CROWN IS NOT MY WEAKNESS. IT IS WHAT MADE ME WHAT I AM. I NEEDED THE CROWN TO BUILD AN ARMY. I NEEDED THE CHOSEN TO BRING IT TO ME."

A heavy tentacle swipes across the platform, brushes near to Hector's head, forcing him a step backwards.

"THEY WOULD NOT HAVE SURRENDERED IT FREELY, SO I GAVE THEM WHAT THEY WANTED. POWER. JUST ENOUGH THAT THEY WOULD PLAY THEIR PART IN MY DESIGN."

The enormous, cold black eyes narrow in what can only be triumph, even in such an alien face.

"THEIR PART HAS ENDED. THE NEXT ORDERS WILL BE MINE!"

"I WON'T ALLOW IT!" the Emperor howls within him. "AGAIN! DOMINATE IT!"

The fear is starting to eclipse everything else - the sudden certainty that perhaps this was always beyond his abilities, that he has failed, that there is no hope after all. And yet he can't turn away, can't let himself surrender to that fear, not yet. He has come so far beyond it, grown so much; he will not let this creature take him and those he loves without a fight.

[INTELLIGENCE] It may not be easy but it was always supposed to be possible. Do it again.

(A/N: DC30 - fundamentally an impossible check. Tempted to blow inspirations hoping for a miracle Nat20 but I think we'll probably have more need of them later. )

Again he lashes out, with every ounce of energy he can muster... again the blast falls short, not even reaching the crown this time.

"AND YOU..."

The brain leans closer to him, taunting, implacable.

"YOU HAD YOUR ROLE TO PLAY TOO. WHO DO YOU THINK TOLD THE CHOSEN ABOUT THE ASTRAL PRISM? WHO DO YOU THINK PLANTED THE KNOWLEDGE OF ORPHEUS' POWER, AND THE FEAR OF WHAT IT COULD DO? WHEN THE CHOSEN SENT MY THRALLS TO RETRIEVE THE PRISM, WHO DO YOU THINK LET THE 'EMPEROR' SLIP ITS LEASH, KNOWING IT WOULD BE THE ONE TO BRING YOU TO ME?"

Hector feels a wave of cold dread start to seep through him, like a prey animal in the moment before the jaws of the predator close around it. His heart begins to thump in his ears and he feels the urge to flee, to run desperately from this place - but how, where? Where can he go? Nowhere is safe.

Panic chokes him and it feels for a moment as if everything has been for naught, that he is still the same frightened man screaming in terror on the beach among the nautiloid debris, and he has learned nothing at all.

"We were part of its plan..." the Emperor whispers, horrified. Hector has never heard it sound so lost; for the first time its unbreakable confidence is shattered.

"I ONLY NEEDED ONE NETHERSTONE LOOSENED FROM THE CHOSEN'S GRASP TO GUARANTEE MY FREEDOM. YOU BROUGHT ALL THREE BACK TO ME. IN DOING SO, YOU HAVE LIBERATED ME."

The brain's voice keens with elation, resonating through Hector like a struck gong.

"THIS WAS YOUR ROLE AND IT IS COMPLETE. NOW YOU WILL WITNESS THE GRAND DESIGN!"

"Shit! NO!" Karlach screams desperately. And he hears an echo of his own panic in her voice, a silent plea. Gods, please, do not let it all have been for nothing. "It's all been leading to this - we stop the brain! NOW!"

He feels so afraid, but there is nothing he can do but try again, and again, and again until all the strength has bled out of him and he dies empty in this terrible alien place. There is no thought in him anymore, not really, just the panicked furious battering of his fists against an immovable wall.

[STRENGTH] DOMINATE THE BRAIN.

(A/N: Impossible. DC99. No idea what happens with a Nat20, but let's be real - the story is better this way.)

He lashes out, every fiber of his body lending itself as a conduit to the power of the stones, and a hoarse scream tears itself from his mouth as the energy blazes out of him--

And deflects away from the brain as if it were shooing away a gnat.

He collapses to his knees, utterly spent, lost. Hopeless.

The brain seems to gather itself, and he feels a hoarse, gleeful laugh resonate through his mind. And then a new burst of energy cracks through him, the brain lashing out in its turn to knock him aside, to obliterate him--

He is caught suddenly by another force behind him; the Emperor, emerging abruptly from its cocoon of astral energy.

It barely even acknowledges Hector, but waves a hand, sending him flying further backwards through the portal of cool blue light.

"This is not over," he hears it growl up towards the brain before the portal consumes him. He's dimly aware of the plane transit, of hitting the ground on one of the floating islands of the Astral Sea. Then blissful unconsciousness takes him and he falls into blackness.

-----

(*) Companion lines are artistic license; only the Emperor actually spoke here but lbr Hector isn't listening to him really anymore. XD

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #holy long post batman #another one that was a struggle to get under thirty images #and ohhhhhhh boy hector is not in a good place at the moment #this is the real nadir #the hopeless point before the heroic climax #or at least one hopes ;)#maybe we just die here but i doubt it #this was super epic #awesome scene holy shit

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shower-phantom-ideas · 2 months

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I want to believe danny finds it more annoying to use children swears.

Vlad uses food

Mr. William Lancer uses book titles

And Danny can say things like “oh golly this is on heck of a situation”

At first it started as it starts with any child. Wanting to test the limits of the rules and then he noticed it annoyed some adults. They can’t tell him to just swear :3. So he kept it. As he gets older he does curse like normal but not very often. Like it’s rare. Imagine his coworkers the first time he drops the “f-bomb”

Do you think they are shellshocked (thats a good handsoap) or do you think they scold him.

#danny phantom #imagine this if you will in a batman universe #bruce is having war flash backs to I think it was jason as robin #and danny is just annoying all his new siblings except for oh fuck I can’t remember who nightwing is #oh hell I have been gone that long? that I can’t remember nightwings name #anyway hes giving jason secondhand embarrassment and duke is helping him get sillier swears #steph thought it was funny to watch bruce and the others squirm but after a while it’s grating on her nerves #WHO THE FUCK IS NIGHTWING #SHIT #funny I mentioned shit cause I am making this post only cause im in the bathroom and out of tp and im stalling #my brain keeps trying to tell me nightwin is tim??!? who I know is redhood #HOLY FUCK HIS NAME WAS DICK

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sbd-laytall · 6 months

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Batman panels that made me feel like I got hit by a brick the first time I read them #1024:

Detective Comics (1937) #707

#no but seriously #the first time I read this I went 'oh. OH! HOLY–'#like 'I just wasn't young for very long' makes me wanna crawl into a hole and lay there but in like the best possible way #cause sometimes it just hits me that Batman was truly born before Bruce even hit double digits #just the tragedy and horror of it all #barbara gordon #oracle #bruce wayne #batman #detective comics #dc comics #comic series #my post

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humandisastersquad · 27 days

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4 day long weekend and I feel almost like a human being again instead of a hoard of anxious rats in a trench coat. Can’t wait for this to be completely reversed circa 2 hours into my shift tomorrow

#I’m solo tech meaning I have to deal with a shittonne of pts needing X-rays all by myself #and I bet there’s gonna be a ridiculous amount of walk ins bc of the long weekend #fuck me im gonna Die #job stuff #holy personal post batman

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batfam-chaos · 1 year

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What if I started advertising my bnha crossover fic by making funny text posts about it and then linking my fic at the bottom

My motivation for doing this is I want more a people to scream about my fic with. I just wrote a VERY good scene today (if I do say so myself) and I need to yell about it.

It’s like a sponsored ~influencer~ ad except I’m influencing you all to suffer. :)

#holy text post batman!#bnha crossover #ok this fic won’t be Super Suffering as long as you aren’t dick Grayson

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godblooded · 1 year

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so since it’s been an age and a half since a munday for me i thought i’d drop this here. hi new peeps!!!

#scopo /#ooc. king of unpopular opinions.#ooc. katface.#[the fucking Chris Chan polo that’s not the Chris chan polo is my fave.#my brother calls it ‘the acceptable version’ every time and I die. yes that is a Star Wars yankee cap. yes that is a Batman sweatshirt.#yes that is a spider man letterman. and that gaudy ass Pattinson shirt? my life my love my everything.#I only wear things like xxxl or xxxxl or xxxxxl because I like to be Small.]#long post /#[HOLY FUCK HAVE I GREYED.]

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sirensorisons · 2 years

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no because you don't understand, light yagami was not right. the reason you think he's right in the english musical demo is because "where is the justice" fundamentally changes his moral stance. in the song, light expresses frustration with the rich and powerful being able to get away with their crimes, and how letting them off easy just because of their influence is deplorable. this economic dimension reflects the values and concerns of the demo's american audience. his issue here is with people who escaped justice being passed down in a court of law. this change isn't necessarily a bad thing, and you're not wrong to agree with the sentiment behind this song. i think you're probably meant to. but it's important to me that i note this as a point where the musical diverges from the rest of canon.

however, in the source material, light doesn't single out the rich and famous for abuses of power. he equates all crime with an innate moral corruption on the part of the perpetrator, regardless of socioeconomic status. he has a very naive and overly simplistic view of the world, and he does not acknowledge or comprehend the societal factors and circumstances that lead people to commit crimes. the one aspect of his morality that stays consistent is his tough-on-crime attitude, that punishing the wicked will deter crime and pave the way for the morally righteous to prosper. regardless of how you feel about the viability of that, light still goes about it all wrong.

light kills people have already been convicted and are already serving out their prison sentences. for those people, justice has already been served, and they pose no immediate threat to the outside world, but he kills them anyway because he sees their lives as worthless. he kills people who have been recently arrested and have yet to go to trial, but they never will because he decides who's guilty. he kills people even if the court acquits them.

sure, he might do his own research on these cases, but how thorough is he being? he kills thousands of people every week. are we honestly supposed to believe he thoroughly vetted every person, on top of his responsibilities as a full-time student-- and later, as a detective? this isn't even mentioning all of the people he killed for simply getting in his way. light is the privileged son of a cop. he has never had to reckon with the real world and its complex moral dilemmas. he may be a genius but he is so fucking stupid.

#welcome to the shitshow.txt #holy wall of text batman. sorry #im basically just infodumping abt dn and my famously correct opinions on light yagami #////#/////#death note #long post

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retired-yowane · 9 months

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Out of character ask and giant ass lecture ahead

So I gather that some stuff happened while I was away for a couple hours. I think the situation has calmed down which is good.

Anyway time to get up on my soapbox and give a lecture.

I heard there was harassment being sent from people other than the main parties involved. I understand that when you see someone talking about serious topics in a manner that is inappropriate you want to step in especially if it affects you. But please understand that sending mean messages or unhelpful ones (ie “hey that wasn’t cool of you. Please delete”) doesn’t help the situation.

If the person is aware that what they said is bad they won’t care and it will give them the satisfaction of pissing someone off. If the person isn’t aware hate will make them stressed and defensive and the unhelpful messages will start to feel like personal attacks instead of advice. This makes it harder for the people actually involved to work things out and leads to a positive* hate sending feedback loop. This benefits no one. Give people time to work stuff out in private.

If for some reason you feel the need to send a message to someone please try this method.

Hello (name) I saw you recently said (thing) I don’t know if you were aware but this is (bad) because it implies (bad thing). I wanted to let you know since I believe you made a mistake and didn’t mean to be hurtful. I hope this message has helped you understand a bit better. If you have any further questions on the issue you can [respond to this ask and I’ll send in another in reply / dm on (this blog) / read more about this issue here]. Thank you for taking the time to read my [message/ask].

This might technically take more effort but it’s 100% worth it. People respond better to understanding than isolation. Take the time to choose your words politely. If cannot do that then recognize that fact and remove yourself from the situation until you have settled down.

Trust me if you act polite then you win. If your polite the other person isn’t they’re a jackass. If both sides are polite you can work something out, respectfully disagree or in extreme cases calmly choose to split ways.

TDLR: for the love of miku don’t insert yourself in other’s conflicts. If you want to engage in a discussion be respectful otherwise you’re just engaging in an argument.

*positive in this sense refers to something being added/given in response to a specific action or behaviour. It does not necessarily mean something good.

#holy cannoli Batman this is a long ass post #fuck it we ball it’s being posted as is

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dead-dog-dont-eat · 2 years

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you guys I just finished the two parts of Batman: The Long Halloween and I'm crying out of pure goodness

#don't I get a little kiss?#batman #the batman #batman the long halloween #text post #holy shit scarecrows design was SO fucking good!!#dc #and that little batjokes moment on the new years eve timeskip #<- literally joker to batman while on a plane #ugh fuck I love it too much

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sanjipussyindulgence · 2 months

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okay i dont usually post about batman on this account but i NEED to talk about something i looked into recently. i wanted to check how long each of the boys was robin and... y'know what ill go in backwards order.

dick was robin for a whooping forty four years straight.

tim was robin for nineteen years.

damian has been robin for eighteen years and counting (better watch out timmy he's about to beat you) EDIT: wait i fucked the math up he’s been robin for fifteen years

and jason?

jason was robin for only FIVE fucking years!! EDIT: nvm he was robin for only ONE YEAR!!!

HOLY SHIT NO WONDER HE DID ALL THAT. I'D BE PISSED TOO. PEOPLE BACK THEN WERE APPARENTLY FOAMING AT THE MOUTH WANTING TO KILL THIS KID

(thanks to @evasive-anon and @wesavegotham for pointing out the mistakes)

#i would add steph but the edibles are kicking in and also i know it was like a few months max #god the fact jason only got five years before people voted to kill him off is crazy to me #batman #batfamily #dc comics #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #dc robin

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inthememetime · 1 year

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There are plenty of posts where Justice League and Constantine sees Danny's Ghost King Form in all of its Eldritchy glory, from on being Lightning Based to one being compared to an event horizon, as he takes down the ghost that was giving the League problems and it basically freaks them out.

So when I stumbled upon this picture

I knew that this could be an excellent form worthy of a King if it was tweaked to fit Danny with ghostly elements, and maybe ice themes sprinkled with something Space related.

Like Vortex or Undergrowth is giving the League trouble, then this thing straight out of the Old Testament shows up, takes down the Ghost, and turns back to Danny who didn't know he just melted the League's brains.

Or, maybe during The Legion of Doom / The Light tries to summon the Ghost King for power/ take over the world, and Danny comes along looking like that and scares everyone there shitless.

How do you think that will go down?

I have had this in my drafts for So Very Long... Im sorry!!!

Holy *^$π, Batman!™

I LOVE the image, and 100% agree, it's an awesome base to work off with Danny.

I think it would be hilarious. Matter of fact, I wrote a fic about it. 😁 If you have an AO3, let me know and I'll gift it to you.

Ao3 here

Be Not Afraid- or Whatever

Summary: The weather god- though Constantine swore it was 'just' a ghost- had pinned down the entire Justice League. While they'd managed to trap Vortex in a two square mile area and evacuate civilians, and even arrested the cult responsible, they in turn were trapped in a small warehouse, protected only by the blood blossom spray and salt circle Constantine made.

With no way to fight it, they had only one choice: summon another ghost. Enter Ghost King Danny Phantom, stage right.

Rain, wind, and hail pounded heavily against the metal roof and walls of the tiny back office of a warehouse.

Earlier today- just this morning, in fact- it had been a bright and warm summer day. The Flash flinched as a piece of hail broke through a window. Constantine didn't flinch, intent on his task. Superman was still unconscious, Batman picking out shards of kryptonite from a bullet that had hit its mark too well.

It was silent but for the occasional pained gasp from their Kryptonian friend, and Constantine's low mutters in what sounded like Ancient Latin to Barry's untrained ears.

Thunder roared, and the single lightbulb went out. Wordlessly, Batman cracked a pair of glowsticks, passing one to him so he could hold it up for Constantine. Clark groaned quietly.

A cult of summoners swearing fealty to Vortex, Lord of Storms, seemed easy enough to stop; Batman made the plan and coordinated with everyone. He and Superman rescued hostages and dock workers alike as Batman and Constantine took down the cult.

It was supposed to be easy. Simple. It was anything but.

The smell of the weird floral spray Constantine used- Blood Blossoms, the magic user had said- was beginning to fade. A drop of sweat fell down Constantine's face. His lips were pressed tight, white against the odd pallor of his face.

"John," Barry whispered, "how much longer?"

Another window broke. Batman swore quietly. "Good news is, we've got the blood sacrifice ready," he joked under his breath. He winced then, and pressed his hand against the bandage on his arm.

It had bled through again, but the others were needed for Clark. In a rare event, the alien was the most injured on the team.

The cultists had purchased bullets laced with kryptonite from somewhere, which didn't hurt Constantine any more than a regular one. The same couldn't be said for Clark.

The magic-user hesitated until water started to bubble underneath the door, threatening the complicated circle of chalk and blood. He spoke, and this time it wasn't in Latin. Barry couldn't recognize it.

The temperature began to drop further while the air around the man began to shimmer, almost. Ozone gathered in the air, and the darkness increased until he couldn't see anything. Even the glowstick was a pinprick of light so tiny he couldn't be sure it was real.

A low rumble sounded and a radioactive green pool started to open. One massive clawed hand grabbed the edge. Constantine's voice cracked- but didn't stop. Another hand pulled out, and another, folowed by one more.

They were white as snow up to the wrists. One massive wing shot up, far too big for the office, followed by another, both black as night and covered with starry patterns. The next thing Barry made out was a crown of twisted black iron and glittering jewels, wreathed in green flame, atop two large horns, blue like sea ice.

The figure continued to rise as John spoke, revealing a second, then third set of wings and a mane of white hair which flowed in a wind he couldn't feel. Four sets of eyes opened, some solid green and glowing, some pitch black, some solid white, and the last a myriad of colors.

The thing's face was almost tan, almost the color of mortal flesh, but green scars like lightning bolts marred it. A thud alerted him of one massive foot, then another, both white and clawed.

The rest of its body except a shining white D was black as the void. When it opened its mouth, he had to look away, unsure if he feared or loved it, found it beautiful or terrifying.

Abruptly, the light from the sticks was back. He didn't dare look at Clark or Batman to see how they were doing; every instinct said he was in front of a predator, and showing the weak of the herd would be a death sentence.

Finally, Constantine fell silent.

"What's up? Kind of a weird place for a summons, you know," it said, and Barry swallowed. It sounded like a child, an old man, a windstorm, the shriek of a blizzard, the thunder of roaring waves all at once.

"I have summoned you, King of Ghosts, to take your servant back to your realm," Constantine managed, voice only wavering a little.

It leaned forward. "And the price?"

The thing sounded almost teasing. Amused.

"What would you ask of us?"

"Autographs," it immediately said. "From Martian Manhunter, Superman, Cyborg, and Wonder Woman."

Wait. What?

"I'm a big fan," it added.

"Should all of us survive today, we will do so," he agreed.

"Sweet. Gimme like 5 minutes. Maybe 10, Vortex is a bit of a bitch. Also, be not afraid or whatever. I'm one of the good guys."

It was gone, then, and abruptly Barry sucked in a breath. Sounds of a fierce battle echoed from outside for several minutes before the storm abruptly stopped.

Slightly singed, the Ghost King returned. "Hey, does Supes over there need a doctor? I know a good one in the GZ."

He swallowed. Batman cleared his throat. "We only need to get the kryptonite out of him, he'll be fine."

"Okay!" It chirped, then reached over and, without so much as ruffling the suit, reached into the alien and pulled out a small handful of shards. "I'll be back in a few weeks for those autographs- I'd say tomorrow, but time is weird. Bye, guys!"

"Wait- can I ask for a way to contact you? If you'd be willing to help in the future," Constantine asked.

"Yeah, sure. My Chirper handle is @realdeadguy, all lowercase, no punctuation," he said, "and you can call me Phantom if you want."

"Guys!"

Sam groaned and Tucker covered his face with a pillow.

"Dude, we know you just got back from a summons, but it's 3 am."

Danny rocked back and forth, wings twitching. "I met the Justice League! They're so cool! Batman was there! Batman!!!"

"I thought you were all about Su-"

"And I saved Superman's life, isn't that awesome?! I kept the kryptonite, look, real-life rock from space!"

"Rocks aren't alive, Danny," Sam muttered. Then, a second later, "wait, what?! You met the Justice League? Was Wonder Woman there?"

"No, but I asked for an autograph."

#danny phantom #inthememetime #danny phantom au #eldritch danny #ghost king danny #vortex #constantine #dp x dc #barry allen #the flash #batman #superman

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geraldmariaivo · 11 months

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Not sure if this is a thing already, but…what if Danny gets unofficially adopted by Batman, and he’s ok with that?

It’d probably be post reveal-gone-wrong or something, but i could also see it just being Jack and Maddie taking the family on trip to Gotham for the summer. Tbh my favorite version of this is within the first full year of him being Phantom, so he’s still getting new powers and stuff every now and then, and hasn’t really gotten all this vigilante stuff down to a science yet. Either way, Danny is trying to stay under the bats’ radar, (and also avoid his friends’ jokes about being adopted by Bruce Wayne becoming reality) but, well..

Danny “what even is my luck” Fenton can’t seem to keep out of the weird shit that happens in Gotham, and doesn’t realize that slipping out of the rogue’s traps isn’t something normal enough to be unnoticed by the bats. Maybe it’s the aftermath of a Scarecrow fight, and Danny stayed intangible for as long as he could, probably occasionally dropping it every now and then because he’s not really thinking, and it takes effort to be intangible like that. Either way, Batman eventually comes upon him while distributing the antivenom or whatever for the fear gas, and comes across this meta child who’s kinda aware, but seems to keep density shifting and makes it impossible to give the cure to, in the way that someone who’s afraid of needles might squirm when they’re getting a shot.

So he just sort of sits there and holds out his arm, and eventually the kid catches on. He grabs on and grips as hard as he can. Batman, slowly, broadcasting his movements, takes his other hand, and puts it to his own chest. He breathes in, holds, and breathes out. In, hold, out. It only takes the kid a minute or two of the kid copying his breathing to calm down enough to thank him, likely due to a boosted metabolism or some other mechanism for his body to deal with toxins. It took another second for the kid to visibly realize that Batman saw him go intangible, and quickly rush out “please don’t tell anyone Mr. Batman”s and “I know there’s a no-meta rule in Gotham, but I’m not staying here full-time.”

Batman just silently nods.

Much to both of their dismay, this keeps happening. Poison Ivy attacks? Danny is there, getting people unstuck from vines or sap or whatever she used to trap them because he can’t not help when he’s right there. Mad Hatter is mind-controlling people? Overshadow him into disabling it, or just fuck with the electronics invisibly.

Riddler is on the attack? Just wiggle in your ropes while his henchmen are setting things up, so as to make it look like you’re really skilled at escaping instead of becoming intangible. Might as well “untie” your fellow hostages, knock out a few henchmen while you’re at it.

These things keep happening, and Danny is actually feeling refreshed. He’s not doing most of the work here, the bats are. He’s just helping out on the side, is all. He’s not waking up at night to fight someone all the time, the bats already have nightshift covered to hell and back. And while constantly coming across Batman isn’t exactly ideal, the man hasn’t tried to drive him out of the city, which is probably as close to a “you can stay” as he’ll ever get, considering that the man hasn’t said so much as a word to him.

Danny’s also pretty sure that the man wouldn’t give him food every time they encounter each other if he wasn’t ok with him. And holy shit, isn’t that something? Edible food that isn’t fudge from an adult with no obligation to him.

Meanwhile, on Bruce’s side, this random meta kid just keeps on showing up at nearly every other rogue attack. Sure it’s been a slow week, but this is ridiculous. He also needs to restock on nutrient bars. They’re don’t taste the best, but between Red Robin forgetting to eat before he hits the rooftops, and the rampant child hunger in many of the poorer areas (he needs to look into his funds for school breakfast and lunch programs again, see if there’s some more wiggle room he can work with), he keeps several on him, just in case.

And if the speed the meta kid seemed to process Crane’s fear gas was any indication, he probably wasn’t eating enough for his boosted metabolism. So he kept a few more on him.

One time, he came in a bit too late, and caught the tail end of the kid bashing Condiment King in the face, -no powers, just a metal folding chair- while griping about how the man had ruined his lunch, and how now he had to eat at home and he was tired and didn’t want to fight his lunch today, because he’s had to do it for the last two days. And then (sloppily) kicking him in the ribs. Of course he had to come in to end the fight, but more than he was concerned about Condiment King, he was worried about the kid. Fighting took energy that the kid was having a hard time replacing as it was, and what’s worse is that the kid’s parents seem to make him hunt his own food. And there aren’t many animals in Gotham other than stray cats, raccoons, and rats. Danny, naturally, is surprised when, instead of being scolded for fighting a rogue on his turf, Batman gives him a handful of those not-granola bars, and two hundred dollars cash. He also wasn’t expecting Batman’s first words to him to be “Go to the corner of Pacific Circle and Evergreen boulevard, they have more nutrient bars for metas there,” but he’ll take what he can get.

And the pat on the head was nice. It was soft, and he saw it coming, and it didn’t knock the wind out of his lungs like his dad’s hugs and back-slaps did. It was nice, and no, Jazz, he was not forming a parasocial relationship with Batman of all people. He was just someone who gave him food and cash, that’s it. It still felt really nice for someone to care about what he needed to eat, though.

He does go to the specified store and get a bunch of different nutrient bars, and makes sure to store them where they won’t come to life. It helps more than he thought it would.

As is her duty, Babs teases the hell out of Bruce for being soft on this one random black-haired, blue-eyed meta kid. You gave him a head pat. A head pat, Bruce. Try not to break out the bat-adoption papers.

#DPxDC #I’m not very good at writing down my ideas #but like #y’all see where I’m going right?#anyway #i just really like the idea of Danny being unofficially adopted by Bruce #and also incredibly oblivious to both this and the fact that he’s mentally adopted Batman as his second dad #meanwhile everyone’s like Bruce #No #he already has parents #and a sister

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humandisastersquad · 11 months

Text

FINALLY got this fuckign job app done

#this is my number 1 preference of company so I spent way too long agonising over the cover letter #and updating my resume since I haven’t touched it since like 2020 #uGH why did they have to open so early #ik the answer is for degrees that do mid year graduation (which imo my degree should too)#but also hhhh I thought I’d have until next month to start working on this stuff aahhh #holy personal post batman

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 3 months

Text

Here's Where You'll Stay

"As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling. "

When Phantom comes down with Core Sickness it's up to John Constantine to save the ghost from fading.

This was originally based on a prompt from @nerdpoe but the story got so far from the original premise that I only ended up using dialogue. I put it under its own post instead of clogging up the notes for the prompt.

The title was taken from Today Has Been Okay by Sleeping at Last.

AO3 link

As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! Plans to hole himself up in the House of Mystery with a bottle of scotch as he wallows in misery but still, plans!

He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling.

The little ghost had imprinted on them like a stray cat. He had just sorta… wandered (phased) in one day when the door (the wall) was open (he phased his head through the fucking wall!!!) and space is cold! No one was just going to kick him back out the door! They aren’t monsters! Next thing you know the cat is eating your food and hovering over you in the medbay and then suddenly the Justice League is having the collective realization that they may have unconsciously adopted a ghost kid.

They already had two aliens, an Amazon, a king, the fastest man alive, a Robin Hood wannabe, a traumatized furry, and an entire department dedicated to magic and the occult. What was a protection spirit added to the mix? Besides, they were already attached.

So the Justice League was understandably distressed when the kid suddenly collapsed, claws leaving long scratches in the floor as he yelped in pain. Phantom was transferred to one of his favored rooms with Martian Manhunter remaining to babysit the ghost. The other leaguers on-site wasted no time in calling a meeting.

If John had rushed a little faster to the Watchtower then that was between He, Him, and Himself.

Having sat silently through an hour of yapping, John was beginning to get frustrated. Figures that the idiots would call up the occult specialists and then not let the only two people who may have any idea as to what was going on get a word in edgewise. Usually, John preferred that they left him to his own devices, but if you were going to call up a consultant then you should probably fucking consult them! Regardless, he could say with a solid ninety-nine percent confidence he knew what was wrong with their resident spirit.

“It’s core sickness.”

“It’s what?”

“Core sickness. Do none of you listen?” he tried his best to blow his cigarette smoke directly into Superman’s face. Clark squinted at him, scrunching his nose in distaste.

Diana, ever the model of patience, merely waved the foul scent away. She folded her hands on the table, fingers interlocking. “I don’t believe I’ve heard the term.”

John leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table with two thunks. He grunted around his cigarette, waving at Batman to explain while he took another inhale.

Batman quietly glared at John’s feet as if he could shove them off the table by willpower alone. When the bat remained silent, John gestured at him again in a wordless 'go ahead'.

"I am…" Batman gritted his teeth as if what he was about to say was physically painful, "unfamiliar with the term as well.

"Holy shit, did Spooky just admit to not knowing something? Am I dreaming? Quick, Barry, pinch me!" Hal yelped, rubbing his arm. Barry settled back into his chair so quickly it was as if he had never moved, the only evidence being the red mark on the Green Lantern's skin.

"Seriously bats? Isn't one of your boys undead? Shouldn't you know this?"

Batman's glare sharpened. "That's none of your concern."

"Wow. No wonder your revenant is so bloody pissed all the time. You can't even be bothered to learn about his medical needs. I wouldn't be holding out for Father of the Year if I were you."

"Now now, boys. You're both pretty." Zatanna clapped, breaking the practically solid tension in the room. John huffed and chewed the stub of paper in his mouth, leaving Zatanna to explain.

"All ghosts and most undead have a core. It's… hard to describe." Zatanna hummed, tapping her finger to her chin for a moment, "Imagine if you only had one organ. It functions as your brain your heart and your digestive system all in one, but it's also the essence of your very soul. Core sickness is when the core is injured and fails to build itself back up. Kind of like breaking your leg but instead of healing the break just continues to grind together. It might still be usable for a bit, but then the bone keeps grinding and the edges start to crumble. It just keeps getting worse and worse until eventually your whole leg is shattered."

There's a sharp inhale of breath as the league processes the information.

"So what happens once the bone shatters?" Arthur eventually asks.

"The core is exactly what it sounds like, it's the very core of a ghost. Ghosts are nearly indestructible, but their core..." Zatanna trails off.

"If the core shatters, so does the ghost." Batman nods, looking none too pleased.

"Well, we can't just let the kid shatter! How do we help set the break?"

Zatanna shrugs, "I'm not sure… Constantine?"

"Do I look like a ghost doctor?"

"You're the most knowledgeable among us on supernatural beings," Batman growled out. The usually stoic shadow almost seemed panicked, or at least as panicked as they had ever seen him.

John sighed and flicked ash from his fingers, "Pretty sure you gotta fix whatever shite caused the core sickness in the first place. Problem is we dunno what caused it."

"So why don't we ask? Surely Phantom would know the cause of such an extreme ailment." Arthur drummed his fingers nervously on the armrest of his chair.

Zatanna grimaced, “Ghosts can be…”

“Aggressive?" John interrupted, "Destructive? More likely to rip your sorry face off than give you answers?”

“I was going to say touchy.”

John snorted, “That’s certainly a word for it.”

Zatanna ignores him. "Whatever caused the core sickness is likely something personal. Asking certain questions of a ghost is considered taboo and often met with hostility."

"Casper just might flay you like a fish."

"So if we ask him we might get the snot beaten out of us, but if we don't Phantom dies? Or… dies again?"

"Fades." John nods to Hal.

“Constantine should ask.”

“I should what? ” John straightens in his chair, staring wide-eyed at Batman, “I know I was being a tosser earlier but I don’t think it constitutes murder. Are ya bloody mad?”

“Phantom likes you the most. He may be less inclined to fight you than a different leaguer, and in the event that it becomes a fight, you’re better equipped to handle it.”

And that’s how John Constantine ended up on the other side of the door from an ill ghost, cursing up a storm as he prepared himself to poke a bear with a stick. A sick bear, but a bear nonetheless. He has half a mind to portal straight out of the watch tower but much like the others, the kid has grown on him. Like a tumor. Or mold.

A hissed sound of pain is enough to push John into the room. He raps gently on the door as he opens it. The kid is curled in J’onn’s lap, tail phased halfway through the floor as he shakes. The Martian is humming something as he runs a hand through Phantom’s hair.

John comes to a crouch at Phantom’s side, nodding J’onn towards the door as he gently disentangles the ghost's hands from the Martian’s cape. A single hazy green eye opens to a thin slit.

“Hey, kid.”

Phantom makes a strangled, warbling chirp but allows himself to be transferred over to John as the Martian leaves the room. The ghost’s claws poke through his shirt to prickle his skin as he clutches onto the fabric.

“Not feeling too hot are ya, Casper?”

Another shiver runs through Phantom’s body.

“Listen, kid, I know you might not wanna talk about it, but it’s important. I need to know what brought this mess on.”

Phantom growled. John could feel the threatening scrape of fanged teeth against his hand. Sucking in a breath, John prepared himself for a nasty bite. Only it never came. He should probably just stop while he was ahead, but Constantine was never known to stop pushing.

“I know, kid, but we can’t fix this if we don’t know the cause. Gotta know what we need to fix before we can fix it, and none of us wanna see ya fade, yeah?”

Silence from the ghost, and then a nod.

John let out a sigh of relief, “Alright, Casper. You’ve walked in on me drunk off my arse with a belt around my head. I reckon we’re close enough that you can tell me your issues.”

Silence.

“How about this? I’ll start listing some ideas off and you tap my hand. One tap for yes, Two taps for no. Sound easier?”

One tap.

“Alright. Did your core sustain any direct physical damage?” With John’s luck he might as well assume the worst.

Two taps. Thank Christ.

“Did you lose your haunt?”

Two taps.

“Unable to fulfill your obsession?”

Two taps.

“Was your grave disrupted?”

Nothing. Phantom’s finger hesitated, hovering over John’s palm. It started to lower as if he were about to tap but retreated once more. Another shiver of pain wracked through the ghost.

John ran his fingers through Phantom’s hair like J’onn had been doing when he walked in.

“Am I close, Casper?”

One tap.

“Did you…” John hesitated. He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t even want to even think about it. Not with the implications that the idea held, especially not with a kid, “Do you have a grave?”

Two taps.

Constantine makes a strangled sound. Bollocks. Fucking hell. Is Phantom a murder victim? He’s just going to compartmentalize that for now. He’ll drink about it later. For now, he’s got a kid to help. A potentially murdered kid, Christ…

“Is that what’s causing the core sickness?” Compartmentalise it, you plonker.

One tap.

Great. So now John has to track down a murdered kid’s body and make him a grave. Wonderful.

“Alright, kid. Here’s what's gonna happen. I’m going to make you the best damn grave you’ve ever seen. I’ll put it wherever ya want. ”

Phantom’s eye opens again in interest, “Wherever?”

“Wherever. Hell, I’ll put it on the bloody moon if that’s where ya want it!”

“It doesn’t have to be on the moon but… I’d like to see the stars?”

“I’ll make sure you can see the stars all the damn time, but first we gotta do the hard part. You know where your body is, kid?”

Phantom gives a weak chuckle and mutters something into John’s shirt

“Gonna have to speak up a bit, Casper.”

When Phantom turns to look at John once more the haze is gone, but so is that tiny glimmer of hope and enthusiasm. The eyes that meet John’s own are dead. They look clouded over and sunken, empty of that natural ectoplasmic glow. They look like the eyes of a carcass. The fanged grin that stretches across his face is stiff and just as dead as his eyes.

“I said if you want to find my body, you’re going to have to redefine your definition of a corpse.”

Ah. Alright. What the fuck is that supposed to mean.

Phantom drops his grin, eyes closing as he hisses in pain again. “You don’t need to worry about that part. An empty grave is better than none.”

No, actually, John feels like he does need to worry about that. He’s not entirely sure that he has a choice in the matter after that horrifying statement. He’ll compartmentalize it and get drunk about that later too. Right now he’s got a grave to make and a ghost to save.

____🥀____

To be fair, John’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. All he knows is that he has to make a damn good grave for a damn good kid if he doesn’t want said kid to painfully fade from existence. He doesn’t know the first thing about headstones but he will bloody learn and pick the best- Granite? Marble? Whatever.- there is!

He already has a spot picked out, he just needs to get a headstone. But for some reason, this feels way more stressful than it needs to be! He’s tempted to ignore the no smoking sign, fingers fidgeting with the cigarette box in his pocket. This is the fourth place he’s looked, and it’s hard to find anyone willing to make a headstone on such short notice. The backlog of orders has been surprisingly long.

John doesn’t have the time to wait. Phantom doesn’t have the time.

So far it's all been the same boring, drab, grey rock with intermittent white marble. None of it is good enough. None of it fits the kid. It has to be perfect. He’s about to move on to the next place when- oh. Oh, that will do nicely!

____🥀____

Constantine swings open the door without warning. Oliver startles out of his story with a yelp. Phantom giggles, fangs flashing. He covers his mouth with a hand and feigns innocence when Oliver glares at him good-naturedly. Oliver, a dad himself, is no match for the sick-child-murder victim-ghost energy the kid is wielding. His glare quickly crumbles, replaced with a fond expression and gentle hair ruffle.

Even with weakness weighing his limbs down, Phantom still tries to bat the hand away with a playful growl. He seemed a tad more lively than when John had last seen him. The updates he had been receiving from the league were mainly neutral. The League, or the Rotating Cycle of Babysitters as John liked to call them, had not noticed any further deterioration but had yet to report any improvement either. It was a pleasant surprise to see the ghost this active.

John allowed his mouth to tick up just a smidge, “Ready to go, kid?”

“Already?” Phantom attention shifted to John, “It hasn’t been that long… has it?”

“Nah. Only ‘bout two days or so.”

“That was fast.” Phantom grunted as Oliver picked him up. Oliver whispered a quiet sorry to him as he carried Phantom to pass over to John.

“I’ve been running myself ragged to get it all set up. Haven’t had a drink in hours.”

It really shouldn’t surprise John how light the kid was. He’d bet the ghost wouldn’t even weigh ten pounds soaking wet. Before the ghost could protest, he was slipping a blindfold over his eyes.

“I may have done some bribery here and there to move things along.”

“Constantine, you didn’t…” Oliver sounded disappointed but not surprised.

John didn’t deign him with a response, instead shifting to hold Phantom with one arm and open a portal with the other. Stepping through to the surprisingly large backyard of the House of Mystery, he quickly closed it behind them before off-brand Robin Hood got any ideas and began the short trek to the gravesite.

"Can I take this off now?" His hand raised shakily without waiting for an answer.

John gently slapped his wrist back down, "Quit messing with the blindfold. I just put the damn thing on!"

Phantom groaned, his head dramatically falling back over John's arm, "Oh come on! What's a dying ghost gotta do around here to get his last wish fulfilled?"

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're already dead. And 'sides, I'm not letting you fade after all those goddamn hours I've put into teaching you portals. You're going to be haunting the Justice League for a while yet." If John held him a little tighter no one needed to know.

"Whoever said that you could rest when you're dead lied ."

"You've been a right thorn in my side between stealing my booze and hiding my cigs. I figure it's about time that I make myself your problem. It's called karma, Casper."

Phantom snorted, leaning his head to rest against John's shoulder. The rest of the walk continued in silence aside from the occasional whimper of pain from Phantom and John's attempts at comforting platitudes.

It wasn't long before John finally made it up the small hill, grinning as he approached the grave marker. The stone slab sat on the highest point of his lot, as close to the stars as possible. He had been so meticulous about its placement that he was almost certain he had every inch of the garden memorized until his eyesight blurred, surprisingly without the aid of alcohol.

"Alright, Phantom. Remember to take it easy," John lifted the blindfold.

Phantom's chest hitched in the mimicry of a gasp, stilling in the older's hold.

The headstone was made of black granite with golden flecks. The man at the shop had called it Galaxy Granite. It was a rather fitting name. The headstone looked like it had been cut from the night sky itself, the stars sparkling even under sunlight. An etching of Ursa Minor sat above the inscription, Polaris bigger than the rest of the constellation. Dainty white letters ran across the stone. Phantom floated over as if in a trance to run his fingers over it.

In Loving Memory Of

Danny Fenton

12 February 1989

12 February 2003

Beloved Son, Brother, Hero

Phantom leaned his head against the stone. John left him to have his moment, retreating into the House of Mystery to grab the final touch. The bouquet was sort of garish. The colors of the forget-me-nots, beardtongue, zinnias, star grass, poppies, and lewisias clashed together, but the aesthetic appeal wasn’t why he had chosen these particular flowers. He remerged with purpose, gently carrying the bouquet to ensure the flowers remained intact. Phantom hadn’t moved.

John crouched next to the kid, gently laying the flowers down against the headstone, “You oka-”

John made a noise of surprise as he was tugged forward. The momentum caused him to collapse from his heels onto his knees. The ghost burrowed underneath his chin, keeping him from falling forward anymore. Phantom’s arms tightened around him.

“Thank you.” His voice already sounded stronger than it had the day before.

“Yeah,” John snaked an arm around the ghost’s shoulders, holding him close even as his shirt dampened, “Don’t mention it, kid.”

#dpxdc #Here's Where You'll Stay #my writing #dpxdc fanfic

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